A Sense of Obsession, Redux
by DragonflyXxXDancer
Summary: Hermione senses that something is terribly wrong with her Potions Master. She wishes to help him...but what she doesn't realize is that her growing friendship with him is placing her in an inordinate amount of danger. NEW VERSION. PLEASE READ THE A/N.
1. Chapter 1

**A Sense of Obsession, Redux**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>All these fabulous characters belong to J.K Rowling. I do not own them in any way nor am I making any money from them.

**Summary: **Hermione senses that something is terribly wrong with her Potions Master. She wishes to help him...but what she doesn't realize is that her growing friendship with him is placing her in an inordinate amount of danger. Rated M...Hermione is OF AGE (that being 18) and in 7th year. Does not follow the events of HBP and DH so this fic is A/U.**  
><strong>

**Author's Notes: **

Now, it has taken a VERY long time. But, I am back! Here is the long promised update of A Sense of Obsession.

In this chapter, and in further chapters, there will be some added scenes and/or slight changes to the existing ones of the original version. I promise I am not completely changing the story. It will have the same plotline as before. I just felt my old fic needed a little sprucing up.

I hope you will all love this version just as much if not more than the first and that I get as much feedback as I did for the original.

You have all been so lovely, and sooooooooo patient. I pray that this has been worth the dreadfully long wait.

I try to edit my own work as best as my abilities allow... but I want to thank Slytherin Head for proof reading this.

Once again, thank you all for your wonderful comments. Please enjoy Chapter 1 of A Sense of Obession, Redux!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

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><p>He understood what was coming, and knew there was nothing he could do about it.<p>

"_Crucio_!"

Dazzlingly bright sparks shot out from the end of the white, yew wand held by long, skeletal fingers. The curse struck its intended target, causing the victim to drop to his knees, his face contorting in agony. But, no matter how long the pain lasted, he would not give a voice to it.

He wouldn't give his torturer the satisfaction.

"You dare not scream?" yelled the being with terrifying red eyes. He chuckled menacingly before screeching, "_Crucio_!"

The man braced himself, realising the spell would hit him soon. When it did, he clenched his teeth, determined to bear the pain. It would be over soon, he knew. The Dark Lord would soon relinquish his torment.

He did not scream.

"You impress me," hissed the Dark Lord as he broke the connection. "You strength is admirable."

His victim remained on his knees; he dared not stand. It wasn't from fear, no... he was not afraid of Lord Voldemort. He knew his place. This was his duty; he was to do as he was told, or face the consequences.

"I will not tolerate failure," he heard Voldemort say. "You will give me what I want. I need that potion by the end of the week."

He bowed his head, in a sign of understanding and respect, before standing. He then turned and left the dank, creaky old building that his Master was using as a lair, as nothing but a plume of thick, black smoke.

**xXxXxXxXxXx**

The morning sun shone through the magnificent glass windows of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, alerting the still sleepy students that class was about to begin. Term was in full swing and students from all Houses scurried through the corridors, searching for their designated classroom for that period.

The "Golden Trio", as some called them, were headed towards the Dungeons. Their first class was double Potions, much to the dismay of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley and delight of Hermione Granger.

"Double Potions?" exclaimed the redheaded boy, his freckled face depicting how much he was not looking forward to the lesson. "I _hate _Potions, never mind having to suffer through _double _Potions with Snape. It's _torture_!"

"Oh, honestly, Ronald," Hermione replied. "N.E.W.T. level Potions is a fantastic subject to have... especially if you wish to be an Auror."

"Just because I have to take it, doesn't mean I have to like it," the boy snipped back.

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically as they descended the staircase to the Dungeons. She was beginning to find Professor Snape to be an extraordinary teacher, even more so now that they had entered their seventh year at Hogwarts. He was still mean and sardonic, and still favoured Slytherin above Gryffindor and all other Houses. However, he was no longer making as many snide remarks towards her person. Occasionally he would, but it was never as much as he used to.

Yet, that didn't mean he had changed his behaviour towards Harry and Ron. To them, he remained to be as nasty as ever.

As they entered the classroom, they each took their respective seat and removed their textbooks from their backpacks. The class was full; everyone was there.

All, except one.

Hermione glanced around the room, trying to spot his unmistakable shadow from behind any little alcove but, Severus Snape was nowhere to be seen.

_Well, he is nowhere to be seen... at the moment. He could come barging through that door any second._

Her inner musings were soon proven accurate when a loud crash came from the entrance way to the class. The door had slammed against the wall, rattling some of the shelves and the noise had caused some of the more sensitive students to jump in fright. However, to the shock of many pupils, the powerful stride their Professor usually had when storming into his classroom was absent. It was slow.

_And weak, _thought Hermione as she watched the man clad in black move to the front of the room and, with one quick flick of his wand, place instructions for that day's work on the blackboard close to his desk.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors remained silent. Snape had yet to utter a word, which was frightening to many. He always said _something_.

And when he did, the tone of his voice warned them all that he was not in a very good mood. "By the end of this lesson, you will all brew an acceptable Draught of Peace. This should be relatively simple for all of you. However, I'm sure there will be many exceptions." His black eyes were fixed upon Harry and Ron as he spoke the last few words.

Hermione's lips curled upwards in a small, gleeful smile. Class should go well for her, yet again.

As everybody sprang to life, gathering their ingredients and cauldrons, Snape stepped over to his desk, grimacing as he did. He lowered himself onto his chair, wincing slightly as he leaned back against the wood.

This went unnoticed by every student bar one.

And it concerned her.

Snape had never looked so ill.

She had a strange feeling that something was wrong; something was horribly wrong.

She shook away her thoughts and turned her attention back to her cauldron and the task at hand. She prepared her ingredients, making sure to add them to the cauldron at the correct time, stirring the contents in the right direction when needed.

When the liquid transformed to a perfect turquoise blue and silvery vapours floated up from within, she knew she had done well, even by her standards.

As she reached for her ladle, she took the opportunity to sneak a glance at her Potions Master, and what she saw intensified her worry.

He was in pain, a great amount of pain.

A thousand thoughts as to why crossed her mind, each one more terrible than the last. She knew he was a spy. He was a double agent; pretending to gather information for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while actually relaying Voldemort's plans to Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.

She dipped the ladle into her potion and poured the liquid into a clearly labelled glass phial. When Snape instructed everyone to bring samples of their work to him, she calmly joined the line of students and placed her bottle onto the dark wooden table, before telling Harry and Ron she would be staying behind for a few minutes. The boys, eager to get out of the room, nodded their heads and told her to meet them in the Great Hall afterwards.

Soon enough, Hermione was the only pupil left in the class.

Snape was busy marking essays it seemed. Hermione had spotted the rather large pot of red ink as she made her way to the front desk. It was lying open, and the distinct sound of quill on parchment echoed off of the stone walls.

She came to rest about a foot or so away from him, deciding to wait until he acknowledged her before speaking.

He raised his eyes upward after sensing her presence. His gaze locked with hers for a moment, only a moment, before it fell back to the monstrously written essay in his hands. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

She shuffled on her feet. "I... I couldn't help but notice, sir... that you...that you, uh..."

He raised an eyebrow in his trademark fashion. "That I... what, Miss Granger?"

She took a deep breath before replying, "That you seem to be... in pain, sir." Her hands tightened around the binding of her Potions text and she clutched it to her chest, her nerves now starting to get the better of her.

He then looked up and tilted his head, appearing visibly shocked at her apparent alarm. "That is none of your business, Miss Granger. My wellbeing is none of your concern." His tone cold, he continued to scribble remarks on the piece of parchment he was holding and fully expected her to leave.

She didn't.

"Miss Granger, as you can plainly see, I am busy. Leave at once."

She shook her head. "Professor," she began, "I could alert Madam Pomfrey for you?"

Her sweet, gentle tone irritated him. "I do not need the services of Madam Pomfrey. Do you honestly think me incapable of brewing a pain relieving potion?" His voice was raised slightly from frustration. "Now, leave."

_Ah ha! He just admitted it._ "So, you are in pain, Professor?"

His hands crashed against the ebony wood of his desk. "Miss Granger!" he snapped. "Your persistence is trying my patience. I do not need, nor do I want, your 'help'. Now leave before your House loses a drastic amount of points!"

She sighed in defeat and swiftly left the class. Snape exhaled a long breath, attempting to calm his temper and control the aches coming from all over his body.

_You know, she was only trying to help you, _an inner voice taunted.

_I do not need that foolish girl's help._

_Temper, temper, _the voice mocked. _You clearly do. Or, at least... you need someone's help. You can barely walk and the agony is overwhelming. You have never received a Cruciatus curse as powerful as that before._

_Perhaps I have not. However, Granger's pity is not what I need to ease the pain._

_Pity? It was not pity in her eyes, Severus. It was fear... she is clearly concerned for your safety._

_Don't be so ridiculous. Granger frightened for her Potions Master? I doubt that highly._

_Fine, _said the voice. _You will not accept her help because of your foolish pride and you will not help yourself. Looks like you're going to have to suffer then._

After arguing with his conscience for what seemed an eternity, Snape came to the conclusion that he would need to apologise to his star pupil.

_Since when do I refer to Granger as my star pupil?_

His conscience chimed in, _Since now, clearly._

Snape growled low in his throat and decided to make his way into his private chambers. The essays could wait and his stress level was far too high to cope with any more marking. Luckily, he had no other classes for the rest of the day so he thought it best to try and relax for a few hours. He would request a talk with his worried student later.

**xXxXxXxXxXx**

As they had agreed, Hermione found her friends in the Great Hall, sitting at their usual places at the Gryffindor table. She plopped herself down onto the bench, snarling as she did so.

"'Mione? What happened?" asked Harry. "What did Snape say to you?"

Ron quickly added his own question, "Yeah, what did you ask him anyway?"

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "I can honestly say I have never met a person as stubborn and hard-headed as Severus Snape. I assure you."

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "Okay," Harry uttered, clearly confused.

Ron's curiosity was piqued however, and he wished for a better answer. "What did you say to him?"

"I said it doesn't matter," Hermione hissed. "You wouldn't care anyway," she muttered under her breath.

But Harry had heard her. "What wouldn't we care about, Hermione?" he wondered out loud.

Hermione knew she was losing the war, but continued to brush off her friend's questions. "It's nothing!"

"Look, 'Mione... it must be something if it's bothering you so much," Harry argued.

"Oh, fine!" she sighed. "It's Professor Snape, okay? Didn't either of you notice how he was behaving in Potions?" At their bewildered looks, she continued, "He barely spoke a word, nor did he insult us for the entire class. He just sat at his desk... and when he did move, he was walking as if his entire body was in agony. Does that not worry you two? Even a little bit?"

"No, not really," Ron responded quickly. When he spotted Hermione's disgusted look, he hastily added, "It's Snape, isn't it? He's a strange bloke."

"Why are you so worried, Hermione? This is Snape we're talking about. I think he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself," Harry said softly, trying to not invoke his friend's wrath.

Her eyes dropped, and when she spoke, her voice was low and laced with something they couldn't quite place, "He places his life on the line every day, for the Order, for Dumbledore, for us... for you, Harry. Are you not scared that his role could be discovered at any moment? If You-Know-Who finds out that Snape is a spy for the Order..." she trailed off, suddenly unable to speak.

Harry gave her a look of assurance. "As much as I hate him, I'm sure he knows what he is doing. Though, I'm still having trouble trusting him..." He sighed, "But, that is probably because I don't like him."

The three Gryffindors soon fell into a comfortable silence. Hermione began to study her Potions textbook, while Harry and Ron read over their Defence Against the Dark Arts notes. This continued, until the shriek of an owl startled them all.

Their eyes shot to the ceiling and they watched as an owl swooped into the room from a window at the end of the Hall. The bird gracefully landed in front of Hermione, dropping an envelope onto the table in front of her.

She studied the animal; its feathers were as black as the midnight sky and its eyes were large and the colour of amber. It was truly a beautiful creature.

The owl then extended its wings and took to the air, flying from the room, leaving an echo of its call behind it.

They stared at the one another, stunned at what had just happened. It was far past the time for the arrival of any mail, so who had sent Hermione the letter?

"Go on then... open it," urged Ron.

Hermione gently opened the flap and pulled a small sheet of parchment from the envelope. She read it silently.

_Miss Granger,_

_I ask that you come to my classroom at exactly 6pm this evening. I have some things to discuss with you._

_Consider it... extra credit. And I know how much your studies mean to you._

_S. Snape_

She raised her eyes, her expression filled with confusion and wonder. Harry and Ron waited impatiently for her to tell them just who had sent that letter.

"Well?" asked Harry.

"Professor Snape wants to see me this evening," she answered. "That's all it really tells me."

"That git," Ron screeched. "He sent you a detention by owl? Now that is a new low, even for him!"

Hermione smirked. "I don't believe it is a detention, Ron." She placed the parchment back into its envelope and popped it into her bag. "I think it may be an extra credit Potions lesson."

Ron's eyes widened and he mumbled, "Oh, God, even worse."

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><p><strong>AN 2:** With University being busy at the moment... I am going to aim for an update every weekend. Thanks for reading! I would love to know if you liked the chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**A Sense of Obsession, Redux**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>In Chapter 1

**Summary: **In Chapter 1**  
><strong>

**Author's Notes: **

Here it is, Chapter 2 of my revised version of A Sense of Obsession!

Again, I would like to thank my friend **Slytherin Head** for proof-reading this for me.

I hope you all enjoy the chapter! ^_^

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<br>**

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><p>Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the rest of the morning, and afternoon, in Charms and Transfiguration respectively, briefly stopping for lunch in between classes. Hermione had managed to master the healing charm and conjuring spell wand movements first time, as always, while Ron and Harry ran into some difficulty. Nevertheless, both Professors Flitwick and McGonagall awarded ten House points to Gryffindor for Hermione's outstanding work.<p>

The rest of the day passed rather quickly after that and, before the trio knew it, it was time for dinner. They made their way down to the Great Hall, where they took their usual seats and began to fill their plates with anything that caught their fancy.

Harry noticed that Hermione was glancing around the room and appeared to be somewhat anxious. Why, he didn't know. But, he assumed that her nervousness was something to do with the dark, dungeon bat they knew as their Potions Master. Harry could not understand Hermione's love of Potions. Snape had always insulted her in front their class, which was full of pureblood favouring Slytherins. He had always put her down, making fun of her intelligence by referring to her as 'an insufferable know-it-all'. Harry struggled to comprehend that as well. As far as he was aware, Snape appreciated cleverness and he could not stand 'dunderheads'. Hermione excelled at Potions so, in all technicalities, she should have been Snape's favourite student.

But, she wasn't.

Or, at least, Harry didn't believe she was. He wondered if the only reason Snape had been mean to her in the course of their education, was the fact that she was his friend... and a Gryffindor.

Yet, he knew Snape to be an intensely private person. He learned that in his Occlumency lessons in his fifth year. So, he figured, that internally anyway, Hermione could very well be Snape's most favourite student and he just could not let that be known in class.

He shook the thoughts from his mind and ate his rapidly cooling meal. Occasionally gazing back and forth between Ron, Hermione and the Head Table, where all of the Professors sat, he listened carefully to the chatter around him in case he was needed in the conversation happening amongst his friends. His eyes locked onto Hermione, who seemed to have a strange fascination with the Head Table. Her eyes were searching, and he noticed a flash of concern and wonder pass through them when she apparently did not find what — or who — she was looking for.

He remained silent with his observations. The last thing he wanted was to incur his friend's wrath because of his nosiness.

Soon enough, the trio had finished their meal; however Ron had decided to take second and third helpings. After saying goodbye to her friends, Hermione excused herself and left the Great Hall. It was a quarter to six and she wanted to make it down to the Dungeons with plenty of time to spare. She had told Harry and Ron that since Snape had requested her presence, by owl no less, it would be polite to not be late.

She took the quickest path possible and travelled down the Spiral Staircase, encountering a few less-than-friendly Slytherins along the way.

When she arrived at the Potions classroom, she knocked the door three times. As soon as she heard a rough "Enter" come from behind the wood, she slowly opened the door, being careful not to make too much noise, and then closed it behind her. She quietly stepped forward into the room and moved towards her Professor's large, medieval styled desk.

Snape wasn't sitting there; quite frankly, she didn't know where he was. She was certain that she had heard his deep, silky voice; she would recognize it anywhere.

She tentatively arched her neck sideways, trying to see whether the shadow that caught her gaze belonged to her surly soon-to-be mentor. She heard movement, coming from the direction of the Potions store cupboard, and again spotted a shadow from underneath its door.

"Professor?" she enquired softly, walking closer to the storeroom as she did so. "Professor, you wished to see me?" Her head inclined slightly in her attempt to peek through the gap between the door and the wall.

Suddenly, a loud crash caused her to vault backwards before rushing forwards.

"Professor!" she screeched, yanking open the door to find a rather flustered and sickly looking Snape. "Oh, Professor, are you all right, sir?" She already knew the answer to that question. He was most certainly not all right, but she thought it best to ask it anyway.

His response was a deep, frustrated sigh as he stepped down from the small ladder he was standing on. "Yes, Miss Granger... I am fine. My stores however... they are not."

She bent her knees, dropping down to inspect the mess on the floor. Shards of green glass were everywhere, lying on top of a pool of clear liquid. "Only a few bottles are broken, Professor. I'm sure they can be replaced fairly quickly."

He turned to face her and she stood, looking deep into his coal black eyes. He sounded exasperated when he said, "You are mistaken. These were my Veritaserum stores; these are not easily replaced." He ran a hand through his hair and stepped out of the room as he continued, "It will take weeks to re-brew them."

Hermione followed and observed him. He was still wincing when he moved in certain ways and he had a visible limp when he walked. This saddened her.

He was still in pain.

She decided it would be better not to bring it up, especially after their last conversation. "You, uhh... wanted to see me, Professor?" She strolled up to the workstation closest to her. "You said you wished to discuss some things with me?"

"Ahh." He took his seat at his desk, closing his eyes briefly as he felt a fresh wave of pain flood over him. When it passed, he continued, "Yes. First of all, I wanted to apologise to you, Miss Granger. I was... too harsh with you earlier today. There was no need for you to be the victim of my temper."

Hermione's eyes widened. She was shocked. _He is apologising? Severus Snape does not apologise... to anyone... least of all to me. _"I... thank you, Professor. I accept your apology."

He took a breath and let it go slowly. "I'm glad, as I wish to request something of you."

She was intrigued. "Yes, sir?"

His ebony eyes bore into hers. "I have heard from Professor Dumbledore that you are considering several options for further studies after you graduate from Hogwarts." He leaned back, trying to find a more comfortable position. "I understand that Potions is one of them?"

She nodded and replied, "Yes, I have been considering a further education in Potions for a while now, Professor."

He hummed in approval. "I believe that to be a very wise choice. Your grades are exceptional."

_Was that a compliment? _"Thank you," she murmured.

"If you are serious about pursuing Potions, then...perhaps it would be useful for you to attend some extra lessons, with me of course, throughout the course of this year." He paused for a moment, looking over her face to gauge her reaction. She was pretty readable; the idea interested her. "It would give you some valuable experience with the art of potion making and potion research; however, it does not guarantee you a place at a Wizarding university. But, it does give you a significantly high chance of being accepted into one."

She grinned widely and it was positively infectious. His lips curled into a sly smirk, a small one, but a smirk nonetheless at her response. "I understand, Professor. I would be very grateful for that, if you are willing to teach me."

"I am, Miss Granger, if, and only if, you follow my precise instructions. Some of the potions we will be brewing in these lessons you have not come across before and, therefore, are exceptionally dangerous." Hermione bobbed her head, signalling her appreciation of what he was saying, and watched as he reached for his quill, dipped it in black ink and scribbled something down onto a relatively short piece of parchment. "Very well." He handed her the note. "Take this to Professor Dumbledore, if you please."

She smiled again. "Of course, Professor... right away." She then walked towards the door; he noticed that there was a skip to her step that he hadn't seen before.

"Oh and... Miss Granger?" Hermione spun around to face him. "I would be grateful to you if you did not let slip my little... accident... to your... friends."

She shook her head. "Of course I won't, sir. And, if it's any consolation to you... I hope you feel well soon." Hermione then open the door and left.

Alone in his classroom, Severus Snape allowed himself a sad sigh. He knew he wouldn't feel better any time soon, for the torture he had suffered was unlike any bestowed upon him in his past. Yet, he refused to take anything to help soothe and relieve the pain. He would not be portrayed as weak by doing such a thing; he could —and would— handle it.

**xXxXxXxXxXx**

Hermione paced the long corridors, heading in the direction of Albus Dumbledore's office. Dinner had been over for a while, so she guessed that the school's beloved Headmaster would have promptly returned to his room.

She soon arrived at the gargoyle guarding the entrance, and she quickly surveyed the area before uttering, "Popping candy."

The sound of rumbling graced her ears and the gargoyle moved to reveal a stairway. She stepped onto it and waited patiently until the movement ceased. She then walked out into the small hallway and knocked the office door.

She entered a few seconds later and marched up to the ornate table Dumbledore was sitting behind, where he was engrossed in a playful debate with Minerva McGonagall.

"Excuse me, Professor?" she said timidly. "Professor Snape has given me a note to pass along to you."

The two Professors gazed at her. "Why, of course," he replied, reaching his hand out to grip the piece of parchment Hermione offered him.

His eyes, as well as Minerva's, swept over the clear script. They twinkled upon reading the final words. However, Minerva appeared to be considerably dejected.

"So, you have decided to take a further education in Potions then, Miss Granger?" the elder witch asked.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Hermione confirmed. "Professor Snape has told me that he will prepare extra classes for me. He said it would give me 'valuable experience'."

"Indeed it would, Miss Granger," answered Dumbledore. "Severus Snape is by far the best Potions Master I have had under my employment. Even if his teaching methods are... harsh... on occasion, with him as your mentor, you will go far."

Hermione beamed. She knew Dumbledore's words were true. Snape could be cold, mean and fully deserve to be called a "git" at times, but she wholly believed he was her best Professor.

Minerva stuttered as she asked, "So... Transfiguration... is not an option, Miss Granger?"

Hermione reassured her. "Oh, no, Professor, Transfiguration was most certainly an option for me. But, I decided that my interest in Healing outweighed it, unfortunately. I chose Potions because I can create so many different remedies, draughts and elixirs... I chose it because I can help people."

Minerva smiled softly. "Very well," she replied. "I support you in your choice, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

Hermione was soon dismissed from the office and then made her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. As she passed the first floor, an idea struck her. She speedily entered the Hospital Wing and left clutching a small phial. She pocketed it before she reached the Fat Lady's portrait on the seventh floor and calmly spoke the password.

When she entered her Common Room, she knew she should let Harry and Ron know of the news. She doubted they would be happy with her choice, but, she truly believed that they would support her.

**xXxXxXxXxXx**

His left arm burned. He instantly understood the reason why and, without a second thought, he answered the call. He Apparated to the location and walked into the old building, following the noises until he reached the correct room.

He slowly, cautiously, stepped inside, searching for his Master. He spotted several other Death Eaters standing around...it seemed as if they were waiting for his arrival as all of their eyes descended on him, following him as he strode closer to the Dark Lord.

He ambled across the floor, bypassing the large and deadly snake his Master had as a pet, and knelt before him.

"My Lord," he said, his voice laced with respect.

"Do you know why I have called you before me?" hissed Voldemort, his expression stoic and unchanging.

"No, my Lord," he replied. He kept his head down and listened for his Master's next words.

"I want you to keep an eye on Severus." The large snake slithered passed the man, winding itself around the chair, and allowed its owner to stroke its head. "I sense that our old friend may be confused as to where his loyalties lie."

"Certainly, my Lord. As you wish."

"Do not let him know of your intentions, Lucius. He must believe that you trust him. How else will he trust you?"

Lucius Malfoy nodded his understanding, before leaving to accomplish his task.

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><p><strong>AN 2: I would love it if you could review. Could we aim for 10 maybe 15 reviews before Chapter 3, I wonder**? ;-)


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